


drabbles

by tigriswolf



Series: randomass prompts [78]
Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-11-15 02:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11221659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: Since I've written SO MANY drabbles for Supernatural over the years, I've decided to put all the ones from 2015 on here to separate them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Untitled drabbles  
> Wordcount: 100ish  
> Pairings: Sam/Jessica  
> Warnings: canon character death  
> Rating: PG  
> Point of view: third

**Prompt: Trepidation**

Sam exhales, staring down at the envelope. It’s the fifteenth acceptance letter he’s received. 

This is really real now. He has to tell Dad. He has to implement his plan. He has to reply to whichever he wants to attend the most.

He has to tell Dad.

He exhales slowly. 

He has to tell _Dean_. 

.

“Come with me,” Sam says, beer still dripping down the wall, the echo of Dad’s words in the air.

Dean smiles at him. “I’m so proud of you, Sammy,” he says. “I’ll drive you to the station.”

.

Sam takes his first steps into his new life without his brother—which is a first time of its own. 

\--------

**Prompt: Indelible**

Jessica traces Sam’s back, following a long, thin scar. Jagged lines on his shoulder. What looks like old punctures at the small of his back.

He tells her tall tales, fantastical stories, but she knows that’s all they are, so she kisses every mark, she tries not to shout at him, and she patiently waits for the day he’ll finally trust her enough for the truth.

\--------

**Prompt: Excruciating**

Dean holds Sammy until Bobby tries to pull him away. Then, he jerks back, his back-up gun immediately pointed at Bobby’s head.

Bobby looks at him. Sam’s lolling his grip, limp. Not moving. Not even his chest.

“Dean,” Bobby says. “Boy, we got to move. We don’t know what’s coming.” 

His finger tightens on the trigger.

“Dean,” Bobby repeats. 

He leans forward, resting his chin on Sammy’s head. “We’re bringin’ Sammy,” he says. 

Bobby exhales. “Of course.”

Dean tucks the gun away.


	2. Walking Dead crossover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: the gods saw he was a man already dead  
> Fandom: Supernatural/The Walking Dead (TV)  
> Disclaimer: Dean&Sam aren’t mine; title from Louise Glück  
> Warnings: I don’t know when this takes place, but I’m thinking before Castiel; implied character death  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 315  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Supernatural/Walking Dead, Gen. Under stress of the zombie apocalypse, it often occurs that family members find themselves unable to kill zombified loved ones, even if they should know better. Give me a scenario where this happens in the Winchester family.

They're doing fine, with the easy-to-kill version of zombies, saving people and hunting the dead, and while Dean absolutely hates what's happened to the world, he thinks they're doing pretty well.

And then they get caught in a swarm while trying to rescue a family and when it's all over, Sam's looking at him with horrified eyes, a chunk missing from his arm. 

"We need to get somewhere we can sterilize it," Dean says after he's caught his breath, after he's beaten down his rage and his fear, because he's the big brother and he's responsible. "If we cut it off, you'll be fine." 

Sam smiles sadly and then turns so that Dean can see the deep scratches on his back. 

"No," Dean says. Sam reaches for the gun on his hip and Dean lunges for it, grabbing it away. " _No_ ," he says again. 

"Dean, I don't wanna become one of those things," Sam says. "Let me do it. I won't ask that of you." 

It can't end like this. It can't, it can't, it can't. The surviving members of the family are huddled together under a car, the mother and two little girls, and Sam's eyes go to them. 

"Dean," he says softly. "Take care of those three, okay? Please. I'm tired. I don't want to become a monster. Get them out of here and get them somewhere safe." 

Slowly, tears streaming down his face, Dean holds out Sam's gun. "Okay, little brother," he murmurs. 

Sam pulls him in for a hug and then turns his back, heading for the trees. Dean watches him, words caught in his throat, because how can this be how it goes, after everything? 

One of the girls sobs. Dean wipes at his eyes and goes to coax them out from under the car. 

.

He goes back that night. Whatever the outcome, he won't live in a world without Sammy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: untitled  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: character death  
> Pairings: John/Mary  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 245  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Alive

John is dead in her lap and the thing wearing her father has a gut wound, and she knows that whatever price will be exacted in ten years can’t be worth it—

But then John gasps for breath and Mary collapses on him, sobbing, and she feels a pit in her belly because deals will always go sour.

.

John smiles at his boy, who is awake and confused, and Sam barely leaves Dean’s side long enough for John to give Dean his last order. 

He pulls away, ignoring the horror on Dean’s face, ignoring the fact that he knows better than to give an order that can’t be obeyed.

He doesn’t say goodbye. 

.

Dean clings to Sam and never wants to let go. But Sam can’t know, so he steels himself and goes to work, and pretends he can’t see the way Sam keeps darting glances at him, at Bobby, that terrifyingly smart brain of his ticking away.

He’s been angry at Dad, but he didn’t even hesitate, and having Sam alive so he can be pissed is worth anything.

.

“Dean,” Sam says. “Dean.” He’s breathing in short gasps, not really getting enough air, kneeling in Dean’s blood, seeing all the way through Dean’s ribs. “Dean. _Dean_.” 

Sam wants to wake up. A thousand Tuesdays haven’t prepared him for this, cradling his brother’s broken body while sulfur fills the air. 

“Oh, fuck,” he hears distantly. “Sam. Oh, boys.”

“Dean,” he says. “Dean.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I would not lose you for a world  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Lord Byron  
> Warnings: post-season 11; I haven’t seen 12; the canon psychotic, irrational, erotic codependency between Dean&Sam references to violence and death  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 235  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Supernatural, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, after all they have been through together, dying for each other, killing for each other, Sam knows he is the only one who has the power to truly destroy Dean. It's a terrifying thought.

They've defied Fate herself, God and all the angels, all the demons, Lucifer, The Darkness—Dean actually killed _Death_ instead of obeying. 

The lengths they've gone to, the obsession with saving each other over the world, what they've done... it's terrifying. 

And Sam knows that with a word, he could destroy the man who means everything. He's come close before, accidentally or not. Wanted to, once or twice. 

But it goes both ways, doesn't it? Yeah, he could shatter Dean to pieces where the archangels and Fate and even Death couldn’t—but Dean could shatter him, too. 

He’s picked Dean over the world before, more than once. He always will. He’s the one thing that could destroy Dean utterly—

But he won’t. Not ever, no matter the cost. After everything they’ve done, every law (manmade, natural, divine) they’ve ignored, everything they’ve let die or killed, it always comes back to one thing in the end: 

Come what may, to whatever end, Sam will choose his brother, and Dean will choose Sam. Nothing else matters, because everything else is… well, everything else. An afterthought. Unimportant, when it all comes down to it. 

Sam always chooses Dean and Dean always chooses Sam, and the rest of existence better catch on because it doesn’t matter what else they have to kill to keep each other safe and alive. That’s always been true, and it always will be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: untitled  
> Fandom: Supernatural  
> Disclaimer: not my characters   
> Warnings: violence, AU  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG13  
> Wordcount: 90  
> Prompt: Supernatural, sam+dean, serial killers

"Sammy," Dean groans as he steps into the room. "C'mon, dude, you gotta stop bein' so messy." 

"Sorry, Dean," Sam says, looking up from his latest toy. "I just... it's such a pretty picture, isn't it?" 

Dean raises an eyebrow at the corpse. "Yeah, Sam, it's a picture, alright." 

Sam smiles, gaze going back to the toy. "How long do I have?" 

"Henriksen's 'bout an hour out." Dean leans against the door, crossing his arms. "Do whatever you can in twenty minutes and then we're gone." 

Pouting, Sam grabs his favorite knife.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: one soul  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: spoilers through season 11; incest; underage  
> Pairings: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount:  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Supernatural, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Just when Dean thought that there can never be forgiveness for being in a relationship with his own brother, Chuck proves him otherwise. They ARE soulmates after all.

Dean's known since he was 18 that he was too obsessed with Sam, too protective, too clingy—that he had to actively remove his gaze from his brother because it was _wrong_ , the way his eyes lingered. He had to keep Sam safe from people like him.

Dean would never have made a move on Sam, but Sam took it out of his hands one cold night when Dad was gone and the heating crapped out.

He felt guilty about how relieved he felt, and then when Sam left for Stanford, along with pride, he felt broken and relieved—because Sam had escaped. Dean would've only broken him, too. 

And then, well. Shit happened. 

Sam spent months grief-stricken and angry, and Dean pushed him at every chick Sam looked twice at. Dad died (healing Dean) and after that, Sam seemed to feel the need to look after Dean, like he was the older brother or something. 

More shit happened. And kept happening. 

Again, Dean would've never made the first (second) move, but Sam... when the dust settled after Yellow-Eyes, once they were back in their old room at Bobby's, the room they were too large for now, too grown to share, Sam slammed into the wall and demanded, "What the fuck, Dean." 

Chests pressed together, breath mingling, Sam strong and alive--Dean broke. How could he have done anything else?

After, they shared a bed every so often, usually when one of them was hurt after a hunt. Dean still buried himself in women (and a few men), in a frenzy because he had a deadline, now. And Sammy—

Well, Sam became a terrifyingly focused predator, obsessed with keeping Dean out of Hell. The closer that deadline came, the more desperate they both got, and Dean didn’t regret the deal (couldn’t, not with Sammy breathing) but he was so scared.

The hounds came. 

Alistair. 

The razor and the rack. 

When Castiel pulled him out, Sam was wrapped up in a demon, drinking _demon blood_ like a vampire, and everything got so twisted around. They still shared a bed every now and again, but Dean felt Sam growing further and further away. 

Shit kept coming, one thing after another, and Dean just didn’t know what to do anymore. How could he keep Sammy safe when Sammy was the problem? When Sammy believed he needed to redeem himself? When Sammy’s soul was left in the Pit (and, fuck, but Dean broke even more, looking at his brother’s face without Sammy looking back), and shit happened and happened and happened. 

After Purgatory, after the Mark—Dean would still have never made the first move. But once they were back in the bunker, Death dead and The Darkness free, Sam slammed him into another wall. 

“Sammy,” he said, hands grasping Sam’s shoulders. He breathed, empty of the Mark’s hold, and it felt like freedom. 

“Dean,” Sam murmured, voice soft and hands loosely pressed against Dean’s chest. 

It felt like coming home, and he let go.

But there was always a lurking guilt, that he’d corrupted Sam, and despite everything they’d gone through, everything they’d done, it still felt like it would end.

And then God Himself slapped Dean upside the head, glowered at him (which was awkward, since Chuck was so fucking short), and said, “I literally made the two of you soulmates, you idiot. Stop angsting about how much you love your brother.” 

Dean blinked down at him. “For real?” 

“Yes, for real!” God shouted. “For fuck’s sake.” He stomped off in Dean’s robe and even though there wasn’t a door, he slammed a door.

After a moment of shocked silence, Dean turned to watch Sam ease himself into the kitchen. “So…” Sam said. 

Dean smiled, slow and wide.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: lovers never lasted  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Meg Wolitzer  
> Warnings: talk of violence and death  
> Pairings: Dean/Sam  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 135  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Supernatural, Dean/Sam Winchester, _how do you tell someone that you'd break any and every moral bone in your body for them? Simple. You don't._

The closest he ever comes to admitting it is when they're in that cabin and don't yet know Dad is possessed with Yellow-Eyes, when Dean glances at his brother for a heartbeat before looking away and confessing, "What I'd do for you, it scares me." He immediately adds Dad to that list, of course, but he's known since he was a kid who he'd choose, if it came down to it. 

It's the closest he ever comes to admitting it. 

But he proves it over and over and over again, and even though he knows it's too much, what he does, knows the world and billions of innocents pay the price, he can't find it in him to care. 

(He doesn't know it goes both ways, even as Sam proves it over and over and over again.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: untitled   
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: pre-series  
> Pairings: Sam/Jessica  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 255  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Any, any, You look at me and you see your past/Is that the reason why you're running so fast? (Blue Lagoon, "Break My Stride")

Dean calls, once. To make sure Sam got there safely, he says. Sam tells him he did and to not call again. 

Dean doesn't. 

Sam nearly calls a thousand times—when he fails his first paper, when he aces the next, when the on-campus cafeteria he always goes to has something he knows Dean would love, when that drunken frat brother tries to pick a fight and Sam catalogs a dozen ways to take him down... Sam nearly calls a thousand times. A hundred thousand. 

Because Dean's been there his whole life, in front beside or behind, hands ready to catch Sam the moment he stumbles, ready to step in and fight for him, and he's alone, now, alone in a place he has no frame of reference for, trying to find his way. 

He didn't ask Dean to come with him. Dean didn't offer. 

He doesn't call, though his fingers ache to press the numbers, though his ears ache to hear Dean's voice. It feels like half of him is gone. 

The same night he and Jess start dating, there's a voicemail left on his machine. 

_Hey, Sammy, I'll be one town over if you wanna get a drink, catch up._

He plays it a thousand time and doesn't call back. 

Because Dean is part of the past he's trying to pretend isn't his, and it feels like carving his own heart out, but this is his escape. 

This is his escape, and he knows that Dean loves him enough to let him go.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: angels (choking on their halos)   
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Fall Out Boy  
> Warnings: AU during season 4, violence, death  
> Pairings: references to Sam/Ruby, implications of future Dean/Sam   
> Rating: PG13  
> Wordcount: 200  
> Prompt: Any, any, _I thought of angels/Choking on their halos/Get them drunk on rose water/See how dirty I can get them/Pulling out their fragile teeth/And clip their tiny wings_

“There’s gotta be an easier way, man” Sam bitches as he paints the sigil in a combination of his and Ruby’s blood. The corpse (coma-girl, Ruby told him) is starting to stink slightly. He can still feel his last taste coursing through him, sharpening his senses slightly enough to _feel_ the taint in Dean, and it’s singing to him, promising—

Dean laughs at him, paging through the book they took when they left Bobby behind. (With the property properly warded, because Dean knows that Sam’ll go through the library with glee, when they’re done here.)

“You wet your dick in a demon, little brother, while I got carved up by a master.” Dean sounds flippant, but there’s an undercurrent to the words. He’s still pissed, so Sam focuses on the sigil, on making it perfect, because he’s got so much to start making up for.

Helping his brother get information from an angel is just the beginning. After that, after Dean has whatever answers he’s looking for, Sam’ll tell him about Ruby’s blood, about how tempted he is to lick his fingers, to press his teeth to Dean’s pulse and _bite_. 

Dean’s eyes are dark, and Sam feels his gaze.


End file.
